


do you ever think of me?

by statusquo_ergo



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Post-Canon, Sentimental
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25007377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statusquo_ergo/pseuds/statusquo_ergo
Summary: The funeral happens three times.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 162





	do you ever think of me?

The funeral happens three times.

First is the political theater, the elaborate commemoration of the loss of a member of the royal family. Preparations are underway for weeks before the big day, and it all feels a bit garish, in the end, but they’ve always known it was going to be this way, and it’s nice, really, this sort of effort. Zuko sits behind the casket at the top of the stairs and speaks very rarely; by mid-afternoon or so, people more or less stop bothering to offer him their condolences, though more than a few take a moment to pray. The memorial lasts for a week; Zuko keeps the palace flags at half mast for one hundred days.

Second is the symbolic memorial, the necessary remembrance of a good and noble man who left his people to fight for them in every way he could but was always able to find a home there when he came back to stay for awhile. Katara sits at the altar in that house where he lived, surrounded in turns by everyone come to pay their respects and tell stories of the things they remember, the things they hope others won’t forget. For two days, the village is abandoned but for that house, that place filled with mourning and celebration.

Third is the one without a name.

Third is Zuko, alone by the turtle duck pond, looking at the moon’s reflection in the water and doing his best to be grateful.

Everything is very still, this time of night, and Zuko reminds himself to smile.

“I suppose I ought to thank you,” he says. “For being patient with me.”

It’s taken a long time to get to this place where I am, and my past is so full of all the mistakes I made along the way.

Zuko closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, even though it doesn’t unburden him quite the way it used to.

“I’ve always been a stubborn man,” he says. “I know it’s very hard on you sometimes. More than you deserve. But you never let me run away from the places I need to be, or the things I need to do, or…the life I want to live. Whenever the obstacles in our way seem to mount too high, whenever it seems that we’ve lost our chance… You’re always there. Every time, reminding me of all that we’ve already done. Everything we’ve already accomplished, even when other people said it was impossible.”

Something small falls into the water, a leaf or a pebble, and the moon’s reflection shimmers in the ripples.

Things are different now. Don’t worry; I haven’t forgotten.

Zuko cradles a tiny flame in his palm and sighs.

“You changed me,” he says. “I know I’ve told you, many times. You showed me that I don’t need to spend my life punishing myself to be worthy of good things. For so long I dreamed of a world united by the desire to do what is right, by the need to be honest and kind to one another, and you… You helped me to see that it could be a reality. No, no,” he interrupts himself as the little fire falls away, “I know we’re not there yet. I know we haven’t achieved everything we set out to do, I know that’s too much to ask of a single lifetime. But you taught me how to believe that the world I imagined might be the same as the real one, someday. That our dreams may seem beyond our grasp but that’s no reason to give up when we’ve come so far.”

A bird calls out into the dark, and Zuko raises his head as though he has any hope of spotting it.

I hear you, my friend. I’m doing the best that I can, the same as you.

Zuko touches his fingers to his lips and tilts his face up towards the sky.

“It won’t be the same around here, without you,” he says. “I won’t be the same.”

If I close my eyes, very softly, and listen with my spirit, deep inside, I can believe what they say, that you’re right here beside me to catch me when I fall. That when there’s something on my mind, you’ll still be around for me to talk to.

The bird calls out again, solemn and low.

Zuko reaches up to brush his eyelashes.

“I suppose that I never imagined living out my life without you,” he says. “I never believed this day would come. The blind faith of old fools; the naïveté of youth, after all this time. Even now I find myself thinking of us as those children we used to be, so wise beyond our years in so many stupid ways, for so many stupid reasons. Those terrible burdens forced upon us, those terrible things we forced ourselves to do. All the scars they left on our hearts, and the pictures we painted over them. Trying to make all our suffering a thing of beauty in the end.”

Taking a breath, he lets it out in a halting laugh that almost chokes him.

I thought I could bear this on my own. I thought I could learn to live with this hole in my heart, day by day, but there’s so much I still want to say to you.

Zuko allows his tears to fall, one after another and another, and tries not to think himself a fool.

“You must be happy, wherever you are,” he says. “I hope you are. Reunited with everyone you lost to that terrible war. Your mother, your father. Your people.”

Holding himself tight, Zuko smiles up at the stars.

“I hope they know that I did my best for you,” he says. “I’ve no right to ask anything of them, or of you, but if you can, will you tell them that I tried? That I know it wasn’t always easy here, the life you had, but I tried to make it good, I tried to make this a place where you felt you could belong. I tried to give you all that I had. I hope you’ll tell them that. And I hope they know that I am so sorry for all the pain that I caused, and I am so grateful to them for giving me you. For all the time we had together.”

For all the memories we shared.

That’s all there is in the end, isn’t it? The hope that the people we leave behind remember us with love in their hearts. The traces we leave on this earth are washed away in time, but the memories, the memories remain.

His tears stop falling, slowly, and Zuko wipes his eyes.

“Listen to me,” he says. “I am a sentimental old fool.”

It’s a different sort of movement, this time of night. A different sort of life. Quieter, and softer still.

Zuko looks up at the moon and the stars, and presses a kiss to the tips of his fingers.

In my darkest hours, I’ll remember your smile, my dear, and I think I’ll be alright.


End file.
